


Triplicate

by Jarakrisafis



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:16:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/pseuds/Jarakrisafis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Certain mechs have finally had it with the twins pranks and come up with a novel way to get revenge...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triplicate

When the door slid back Bluestreak tentatively poked his head around the frame. He was quite sure he hadn’t done anything wrong recently. He’d handed in his reports, showed up on time for patrol and hadn’t ended up in the medbay. There was the prank last week, but he’d been a victim not an instigator.

“Come in Blue.”

He tilted his head as he slid into a seat, shooting Smokescreen a curious glance before focusing his attention back onto Prowl who had set aside his datapads and was leaning over his desk with a rather scary expression.

“How would you like to get the twins back for that prank last week?” Bluestreak couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Prowl smile like that.

And if Prowl was helping then he couldn’t get in too much trouble...

* * *

Ratchet huffed a blast of air through his vents. Of all the mechs to cause trouble, Prowl wasn’t one of the usual suspects.

But he’d had several reports from different mechs about the bot acting, well, not like himself.

The first one had been from the twins of all mechs, saying Prowl had somehow got hold of a warp generator.

Jazz had popped his head in to say that he thought he was making progress, Prowl hadn’t corrected him when he called him Prowler.

Prime thought he should double check Prowl’s memory banks when he was next in for maintenance.

The Aerial bots were all insisting they had caught sight of Prowl speeding down one of the unused corridors.

And Streetwise and Blades had been caught betting, and said that Prowl had not only left them with the datapad, he had joined in.

Ratchet let out another puff of air.

Speak of the mech.

He waved Prowl over, eyeing the mech up as he approached, narrowing his optics he frowned.

Something was different, but he couldn’t quite tell what.

“You wanted something Ratchet?” Prowl asked as he slid into the seat opposite the medic.

Being the only senior medic in the group meant that all the chassis on the ark had been under his optics at some point. Thus he stated with some certainty, “you’re not Prowl.”

He didn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t the mech frowning, wings flickering in annoyance. “Pit. What gave me away?”

Running a light scan the medic tilted his head, matching the scan to his records. “Smokescreen?”

“Shhhhhhh.” The pseudo-Prowl made a ‘quiet’ motion with his hand. “We’re waiting for the twins.”

Ratchet looked up at that, scanning the rest of the rec room with his optics. A flash of white moved in one of the darkest corners as another identical tactician gave him a small wave.

“Prowl?” Ratchet asked quietly, hand over his faceplates.

“Nope, that’s Blue.” Smokescreen said as he pulled a datapad out of subspace, holding the stylus in a good imitation of Prowl before schooling his face to a neutral expression.

He didn’t know what trouble the three Praxians were about to cause, but at least he could tell Prime that reports of Prowls impending insanity were false.


End file.
